Lover or Loser
by Little Miss Fangirl
Summary: This place needs more stories featuring that infamous best and worst lovers list :D. Each chapter will feature a nation on the bad list. Second chapter: lazy!England and striking!France.
1. GerIta

**A/N:** I saw the best/worst lovers list and I had to work with it. I had to. I'll dedicate one chapter to each nation on the 'worst' lovers list and show that they aren't half bad :D.

**Warnings:** Human names, tiny bit of OOC-ness and some good, clean fun in the shower ;-)

**Disclaimer:** Not mine (un)fortunately. If it were I'd be rich enough to buy me some cute/hot male models and let them re-enact the show.

* * *

Ludwig rummaged through the toolbox, trying to find the right wrench. He had been stuck in the garage all day, fixing his BMW after Feliciano wrecked it once again. He had told him at least a million times, was it really that hard to understand? So what that the Autobahn has no speed limit? It's still not to be used as your personal racetrack, verdammt nochmal! And even if he did want to use it in such a manner, he could have at least used his own damn car!

"Stupid Italians and their disrespect for traffic rules and regulations," he muttered.

He finally found the wrench he was looking for, and went back to the car. The engine had been messed up pretty bad, but he had managed to repair it for the most part. Just a few more whacks with wrench number 78, a little bit of oil, replace some wires and it should be running smoothly once more.

"Until Feli manages to trash it again next week."

He sighed and turned his attention to the engine . He really needed to hide the keys to the garage better.

* * *

Feliciano was in the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it in the pasta sauce, bringing it to his lips to check the flavor. He furrowed his brows, added some more spices and checked again. A smile graced his lips this time.

"Perfect! Ludwig is going to love this! I can't wait to see his face when he has a taste!"

Feliciano went to set the table. After getting everything ready he ran to the basement to grab a bottle of Ludwigs favorite beer and a bottle of wine for himself. Wine would go so much better with the meal he had prepared, but Ludwig never drank it. "Oh well, his loss. More wine for me!" He cheered.

He closed the basement door with his foot and hurried towards the dinner table, almost dropping the bottles when he arrived.

"Oh my God!"

* * *

Ludwig managed to get the repairs done and went home immediately. He had planned to wash the dirt off of him first before eating, but his hunger had gotten the best of him. Deciding to listen to his stomach he took a bite when Feliciano came rushing in. He was so startled that he almost choked on the bread he took a bite of. Ludwig stumbled towards a petrified Feliciano, grabbed the beer from him and chugged it down.

"Gott im Himmel, I thought I was a goner for sure. You shouldn't rush into the room like that, Feliciano, it's dangerous!" He said after he swallowed the lump of bread.

He was panting slightly, and looked at the little Italian. Feliciano was still standing there, staring at him with his mouth open, and Ludwig was beginning to worry. Had he scared him that much? He reached out his hand to grab Feliciano by the shoulders.

"Feliciano? Are you alright? I'm sorry if I scared you, but I'm fine, so there isn't any-"

"You did not just try to touch me with that dirty hand!" Feliciano interrupted him, smacking his hand away.

"I'm sorry?" He couldn't believe it. Feliciano, his beloved, cheerful, couldn't-punch-his-way-out-of-a-wet-paper-bag Italian had slapped him? "_And hard too, I didn't know he had it in him." _Ludwig thought as he rubbed his hand.

"You'd better be sorry! Just look at you! You look like you bathed in motor oil! And don't even get me started about the smell! How dare you touch my cooking with those filthy hands!" He said, eyes burning with rage. He walked towards Ludwig and backed him against the wall, poking his chest with the wine bottle.

"I-I'm sorry, really!" Dammit, why was he stuttering? "I haven't eaten anything since breakfast! And you know I can't resist your cooking!"

"You think my cooking is irresistible? Really?" The rage filling his hazel eyes had been replaced with utter joy in mere milliseconds. Back when Ludwig was still trying to train him all he heard was scolding, so now every time he actually got complimented he would get even happier and more lenient than he usually was. And Ludwig knew when to take advantage of that.

"Would I lie to you?"

"Oh Ludwig, it makes me feel so happy to hear you say that! I could just kiss you!" He leaned closer to do just that, when he remembered why he had backed him against the wall in the first place. That horrid smell! Urgh! It was bad enough to make his eyes tear up. He quickly covered his nose with his sleeve and pointed the wine bottle at Ludwig again.

"I'm sorry Ludwig, but no dinner or kissing before you get cleaned up."

* * *

"Uhm, Feli?"

"Yes, Ludwig?"

"Can you tell me why you've followed me to the bathroom?"

"I want to make sure you get clean properly."

"No offence Feli, but I'm more of a cleanfreak than you are, so there's really no need for you to… FOR THE LOVE OF BRATWURST! WHY ARE YOU TAKING YOUR CLOTHES OFF?"

"I'm joining you in the shower of course, silly. How else am I gonna make sure you get all that oil off?"

He had stripped down to his boxers (D&G of course :P), his pants still in hand. He folded them and put them on top of the cabinet next to the sink. He frowned when he turned around and saw that Ludwig still wasn't out of that dirty overall. He shook his head as he walked towards him and started to unbutton it, not seeing the red stains on Ludwig's cheeks.

"I-I… y-you…why are you…" Dammit, why is he still getting flustered whenever Feliciano showed some skin? It's not like he hasn't seen it before!

"You're so weird sometimes, Ludwig. You can't shower in that thing." He said as he pulled the top half of the overall from Ludwig's shoulders and reached for the pants. Ludwig finally snapped out of his daze and stopped him before he could do anything by stepping backwards.

"Please don't, Feli."

"I don't mind. You'll be done faster when I help you."

"But I don't-"

"No buts, Ludwig! The faster you get clean the faster we can eat!" He interrupted him before he closed the distance between them. He got him out of the overall and other pieces of clothing, until he was also in his boxers, ignoring his protests during the process. He nodded in approval at the sight in front of him. Ludwig still trained on a regular basis, so he was in great shape. Feliciano reached out a hand and placed it on Ludwig's chest, tracing a line down to his abs.

"You know, it's kinda funny," he said with a smile, drawing circles around Ludwig's bellybutton.

"W-what is?" He gulped.

"You have these rock hard muscles, but I find it more comfy to rest my head on your chest than on my soft pillow. It's so soothing to listen to your heartbeat." His hand had reached up to Ludwig's chest again, stopping when he found his heart. "Although I can't remember it beating this fast. Oh no, you're as red as Antonio's prized tomatoes! Are you okay?" He asked with a worried tone as he pulled Ludwig's face towards his own and pressed their foreheads together to check his temperature. "You do feel a bit warm, but I can't really tell if you're coming down with a fever. I'll go get-ah!"

He just couldn't help himself. He could handle the stripping (seeing as Feliciano pretty much walked around buttnekkid 24/7 anyway) and the touching (Italians are affectionate people, he knows that too), but when their faces got pulled close he couldn't restrain himself any longer. He had to kiss him.

After a while he pulled back for some air. He stroked Feliciano's cheeks, but stopped when he saw the marks his still dirty hands were leaving. "I'm sorry, Feli, I got you all dirty too." He wanted to remove his hands, but Feliciano put his own hands on top of them, keeping them there. "Feli?"

"Please stop apologizing every time you kiss me. It's such a buzzkill."

"Buzzkill?"

"Yes, buzzkill. You know, when you're in the mood for something and the something happens and you lose the feeling and then-"

"I know what buzzkill means, Feli. I just thought you wouldn't want to do anything with me in this current state."

"I admit that you have indeed smelled better, but nothing a good shower won't fix." He said, pushing Ludwig towards the shower and turning the water on.

"Argh! Cold! Dammit Feli, what are you doing?"

"You, after you're cleaned up," he said with a grin as he worked Ludwig to the ground and straddled him. Any words of protest were swiftly silenced by a well placed kiss. When he broke the kiss he reached out a hand to cup Ludwig's chin, lifting it up a bit to take a good look at his face.

"I-I…why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, since I'll never be able to capture this perfect scene in a painting, I'm trying to imprint as much of it as I can in my memory. I want to remember the way you look right now. Hair free from its slick prison, face flushed red with some oil stains, water running down your chest." His free hand traveled to all the mentioned body parts during his talk, stopping at Ludwig's slightly swollen lips. A slight shiver went down his spine when Ludwig kissed his fingertips. They stayed like this for a while before Feliciano closed the distance between them for another kiss.

* * *

"Feli?"

"Yes Ludwig?"

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"If you're seeing Gilbert, Francis and Antonio lying in a huge puddle of blood, then yes. I'm seeing what you're seeing."

"You didn't lock the bathroom door, did you."

"I never do. You wouldn't be able to join me if I did."

Ludwig let out a sigh as he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked towards his brother and his friends. "Just tell me if you want me to join you. I don't need voyeurs." He crouched down and checked for any camera's. Nothing. Good, that means he won't have to erase anything.

"Really? You're the best, Ludwig!" He said as he hugged him from behind. Ludwig smiled as he turned around and put a bathrobe around Feliciano's shoulders. "Really. Come on, let's go see if those peeping toms left anything of your cooking for us."

* * *

**A/N:** OMG I WROTE SHOWERSEX. EXCEPT NOT REALLY. (It's rated T, what did you expect XD). I'll be honest with you, I can't write lemons/smut/sexytimes to save my life. Hence why I'm doing this to make myself comfortable with it. My goal is to write something M-rated that won't make your eyes bleed because of the fail. It'll take me a lot of time, but I'm sure I'll be able to do it someday ;-).

My first attempt at GerIta! And also my first attempt at writing something that implies sex! I hope I haven't failed too much at it. Onwards towards explaining, yay!

Italy used to be a maid in his younger days, so every now and then he'll go in a cleansing frenzy that puts even Germany's cleaning fury to shame! Hope that explains his outburst. He's one of the best lovers, hence him being the aggressive one in this story :3.

I think I got Germany okay. He will get flustered when faced with affection, but once he gets into it, he gets into it *winkwink*. No outburst at the end for him because he's used to his pervy bro's antics. And something tells me he's totally into the whole voyeur thing anyway *pervy grin*.

Chapter two will tell you about number two on the list and his partner: lazy!England and France on strike!

Reviews would be very much appreciated, thank you!


	2. UkFr

**A/N:** Holy crap, I made people nosebleed. I did not know I had it in me. I'm kinda proud of myself now :P. Maybe that M-rated thing will come sooner than I thought? Haha. Anyway, thank you so very much for your lovely reviews! As thanks I come bringing you the next chapter of the adventures of our unfortunate nations. I don't know if this will make people nosebleed, but I'll try. I wanted to post this sooner, but Arthurs laziness infected me :P. So let's get this thing continuing!

**Warnings:** Nothing much, besides the regular warnings of a little bit of OOC-ness. And more halfassed attempts of me trying to write something sexy.

* * *

This was not how Arthur envisioned his evening to go. He was supposed to come home after a long, hard day of work (check), relax a bit as he drank his Earl Grey while reading the evening paper (check), waiting for dinner to get ready (check), enjoying said dinner (check), help with the dishes afterwards (check) and finally getting a little something-something from his lover before having a well earned rest.

He looked at the list in front of him. Everything has been checked off, except for the getting a little something-something from his lover part. He let out a grumble as he crumpled the paper and threw in the ashtray.

"That damn frog. Who the bloody hell does he think he is, accusing me of something like that!" He took his glass, downing the ale that was in it in one gulp and filling it up again. _Good thing I asked the bartender to leave the bottle here_, he thought. After finishing his third glass he took the crumpled paper from the ashtray again, looking it over one more time. He didn't get it. Everything went so well, too. What was that idiots problem anyway?

Classy British flashback

_He let out a moan when Francis bit his neck. His jacket and shirt had been discarded and thrown on the floor somewhere, but he couldn't care less. He just wanted Francis to continue doing what he was doing. It seems someone heard his plea, seeing as how he was pushed on the couch, Francis hovering over him immediately after. After sharing a heated kiss they broke apart, getting some much needed air. _

"_I want to try something different, Arthur. Think you're ready for it?" A trail of kisses went from his jawline to his throat, down to his chest._

"_S-something different? I don't-ah! I don't know. What do you have in mind?" Oh, who cares, I'll end up liking it anyway. Less talking, more action!_

"_Well, for tonight…" he started, pulling Arthur on top of him, "I want you to take control."_

"_Eh? You want me to…"_

"_Yes. Show me how great you are, Britain," he said with a little smirk, kissing him once more. When he pulled back he noticed that Arthur was staring into space, cheeks red. He couldn't help but smirk again. "How about you stop fantasizing about what you want to do to me and actually do it? I know you're not that much of a prude."_

"_I was not fantasizing! I was just…uhh… I was… I mean… err…" His face turned an even deeper shade of red as he turned his head away, mumbling something under his breath. "Sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you." _

"_I said… uhm… can't you just take the lead? I'm not in the mood to do it."_

_A frown quickly replaced the smirk that was on his face. "Not in the mood? Mon Dieu, Arthur! You can't expect me to do everything all the time, you lazy bastard!"_

"_Why not? Things get done faster that way."_

"_Things? Is that how you see it? Just another item on your list to check off?" He fumed, pushing Arthur of off him. _

"_I never said-"_

"_I don't want to hear it. You're not the only one with needs, Arthur. Until you can get you act together I refuse to see you. I'm on strike!" _

Back to the cold, harsh reality

_I'm on strike, he says. Pfft, so what else is new. That damn frog goes on a strike every other day. And then he has the nerve to call me lazy! He and his whole damn people are the lazy ones! _He thought. He wanted to refill his glass when he noticed that it was empty. After asking for a new bottle he threw the paper in the ashtray again. Who cares what that idiot said, he's not lazy and that's final!

* * *

"Arthur. Arthur, wake up." Someone was shaking him.

"Hnngh." _Leave me alone, bloody wanker! I'm trying to enjoy my drunken slumber!_

"Still not up? Alright then, time for more drastic measures." _I know that voice from somewhere. Who the hell is that. He has some nerve, trying to disturb me. _"Aaargh!" _He threw icecubes down my neck! That bastard actually… _Arthur shot up, ready to curse the bastard into oblivion, when he noticed who it was. "What the hell are you doing here?" He growled, glaring at the Dutchman.

"Nice to see you too, Art. Patrick called me. He said you were already on your fourth bottle, and he wanted me to keep you out of trouble," Johan said, lighting up a cigarette.

"Patrick?"

"The bartender, you dolt. You've been visiting this place for how many years and you still don't know his name?"

"Oh, him. Wait a minute, he called you? How did he get your number?"

"I gave it to him after the last time you almost tore the place up, remember? What did you do this time to make Francis pissed at you?"

"Who says it has anything to do with that damn frog?"

"I saw the list. Francis never misses an opportunity to jump you. So I'll ask again; what on earth did you do to make him deny you?"

Arthur let out a sigh. He really didn't want to talk about his personal life, but what choice did he have? And besides, Johan wasn't that bad. At least he knows to keep his mouth shut. Fuck it, he was too drunk to care anyway. He took a gulp from his glass, straightened his back, took a deep breath and told everything that had happened that evening.

"…and then he has the nerve to call me lazy! Me! When he's the one striking every other hour! Bloody frog!" He reached for the bottle again, but Johan kept it out of his reach. "You've had enough for today, Arthur. And Francis does have a point, you know. You have to give and take in a relationship, and all you've been doing is taking."

"Taking? I gave him me, didn't I? What else does he want!"

Johan sighed as he shook his head, getting up from his chair. He walked over towards Arthur and pushed him on the table, gripping his wrists tightly as he pinned them above his head. "Honestly Arthur, how dense can you be? He wants you to get on top of things, like you used to."

"W-what?"

"I remember a time when I had to fight your entire navy before I could get you in a position like this, and even then you fought like hell to get me of off you. What happened to the king of the seven seas? Because I sure as hell ain't looking at him now." He said, getting closer to Arthurs face. Their lips were only inches apart now, and Arthur could taste the cigarette Johan had a few moments ago.

"I…" He closed his eyes as he leaned towards Johan. He opened his eyes in confusion when he met air instead of another pair of lips.

"I'm not the one to claim you, Art. Not anymore. Besides, you're not someone to be claimed, anyway. You're the one supposed to do the claiming." Johan let go of Arthurs wrists and helped him up. Arthur adjusted his jacket, trying to calm himself. He took a few breaths before turning his attention to Johan. "So you're actually agreeing with him. Never thought I would see the day."

"Because he's right. If you really were a gentleman you wouldn't let your partner do all the work. Love is a team effort," he said with a smile.

"Who died and made you the new love doctor? Bloody hell." Arthur replied. He tried to sound angry, but couldn't help a smile of his own from gracing his lips. "I really am dense, aren't I?"

"Admitting is the first step towards a cure, Artie my boy," he said, pinching Arthurs cheek. He dodged the punch Arthur threw at him, laughing as he slapped him on his back."Come on, I'll take you home."

After paying for the drinks and apologizing to the bartender they took a cab towards Arthurs house. When they arrived Arthur stepped out of the car. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night? You know I have plenty of room."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think it's better if I head home. If I do stay I might up claiming you," he said with a grin. "Really now? I think you're just afraid I'll show you once again why I'm the ruler of the seas," Arthur replied, grinning back. Johan burst out laughing. "Ahaha, now that's the Arthur I remember! Keep that thought, and show Francis what you're made of."

"No problem. Hey, Johan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the help."

"Don't be going all mushy on me now. I'll see you next week for that Shell meeting. Take care."

"Take care." He waved until the cab was gone from his sight, and went inside the house. After making a cup of Earl Grey for himself he went to his study, picking up an old journal that he wrote during one of the many naval battles he fought. Smiling at the memories that came flooding back to him, both good and bad, he made a decision. Time for the gentleman to take a little break and for the ruler of the seas to make a comeback.

* * *

"I know, darling, I know. But trust me on this one, it'll be a fashionista suicide if you wear those shoes with that dress. No… yes, yes! Exactly! Oh, hold on a sec, there's someone at the door." Francis went to the door, opening it. "How may I… oh, it's you. I'm not in the mood for you right now, Arthur." He wanted to shut the door, but Arthur stuck his foot between the door, letting himself in, taking the phone from Francis in the process. "I'm sorry for cutting the conversation short, but I need to discuss something with mister Bonnefoy. He'll call you back tomorrow."

"Out of all the… Do you even know who was on the other side of the line?"

"I don't know and I don't care. We still have some unfinished business to take care of."

"I already told you, I'm not-mmph!"

Arthur was kissing him with a ferocity Francis forgot he had. It was kinda nice, actually. Better at least than the unpassionate kisses he usually got. He wasted no time in kissing him back, fighting to get the dominance which he surprisingly lost. Arthur led him towards the couch, pushing him on it and getting on top of him immediately after. Francis panted when they broke apart, looking at Arthur with a mix of confusion and hope.

"Well, this is surprising. I don't know what has gotten into you, but I'm not about to complain. Unless you finally messed up for real and are now possessed. In which case we should-_ohdearGodyes_!" Francis threw his head back when Arthur nibbled on that specific spot. "You talk too damn much, love. So how about a little rule; unless its my name you're moaning, I don't wanna hear it," he whispered in his ear before kissing him again. Francis suppressed a shiver as he kissed back, thanking whoever deity was listening for finally knocking some sense into his loveable bastard.

* * *

Johan had planned to ask how everything had went when he saw Arthur during the meeting the following week, but decided not to. That smug look on his face, accompanied by a matching grin was all he needed to know it went well.

* * *

**A/N:** I really need to start updating more frequently. Once every two months is not enough. I blame Arthur for infecting me with his laziness. Even though I'm Dutch, and not British :P.

And here we have my first attempt at FrUk. I have a feeling I could have done more with this pair, but I kinda like how this went too. I let Johan (Netherlands) help Arthur out for several reasons. One: his brothers would never help him with this. Two: his former colonies wouldn't either. Three: Except for their own Anglo-Dutch wars, England and the Netherlands have always been on the same side, their friendship goes way back and their royal families are (very distant) cousins. King Willem III of the Netherlands was even the king of England at one point when he married Mary of England. Royal Shell (the oil company) is a Britsh-Dutch company.

Speaking of the Anglo-Dutch wars. The two of them had the most powerful navy at one point, and fought several wars for the title of 'King of the seas'. And steal the others colonies in the process. Netherlands lost New Amsterdam (New York's old name when it was a Dutch colony) during one of those wars. This is just a simplified version of events, you can wiki the rest for more details (more laziness, wohoo :P). Anyway, I'd like to think that they would end up having some hot, steamy sex after every battle, just to rub the victory/loss in.

Patrick didn't notice the moment Arthur and Johan had, they were somewhere in a dark corner. Arthur is a horrible drunk, and he almost wrecked the place in the past. Johan gave him his number to call him when Arthur would drink too much, so he can keep him in check. Patrick had to use his services quite a few times :P. The only reason he's still allowed in the pub is because of Arthurs huge tips. They already paid for two of his kids' studies.

After swearing off his piratey/punky ways and deciding to be a gentleman from now on Arthur forgot how to be a seme XD. Johan reminded him and now Francis is happy again. Gotta love them happy endings.

Enough ranting. Next chapter will feature oneminuteman!Sweden and Finland. I have no tag for him yet. Depends on how the story will turn out. You'll see it in the next summary.

Thank you for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!

**PS:** Many of you will most likely read striking as streaking XD.


End file.
